Probably Me
by dropdeadred
Summary: Chakotay muses, after nine years in the Delta Quardant


**Probably Me**

DISCLAIMER : Paramount own them, but have no idea what to do with them... I, on the other hand, do.... 

RATING : PG

SUMMARY : Based on the lyrics of Sting's song 'It's Probably Me'. Conveys perfectly the idea that no matter how much we don't want to feel things....there they are.....

***

If the night turned cold

And the stars looked down,

And you hug yourself

On the cold cold ground, 

You wake in the morning 

In a stranger's coat, 

No one would you see....

Nine years. Nine years. Nine. Years - nine! Chakotay said the words over and over to himself until they stopped making any real sense to him. Nine years and they were still only a little over half-way home. He knew he should be grateful it hadn't taken them the predicted thirty-five, but still... nine years! Nine years and they still met more hostiles than anything else. Nine years of rations, and warp 6. And protocol.

Ask yourself, who'd watch for me, My only friend, who could it be... It's hard to say it, I hate to see it, It's probably me. Damned protocol. It was damned protocol that now prevented him from opening a channel to the Captain, and checking if she was alright. But she was in the midst of negotiations with the Tserani, and they were under orders that she be contacted in an emergency only. Chakotay did not think that his feeling of discomfort would be accepted as emergency. He just had a feeling. They had a transporter lock on her, and she didn't appear to be in any strife. He heaved a sigh. There had been times when she had liked that he worried about her. There had even been times when he enjoyed it, to an extent, when she was responding to him. But now, now she wouldn't thank him; today she would most definitely not appreciate being interrupted on a whim.

When your belly's empty

And the hunger's so real,

And you're too proud to beg

And too dumb to steal. 

You search the city for your only friend,

No one would you see.... 

He could pinpoint the time when it had all started to go wrong, it was during their third year out. Things had started to fall apart. The rapport, the intimacy they had built up on New Earth had begun to fade, was being corroded by duty, by long hours, and by protocol. Damned protocol. Protocol. He began to toy with the words again. He had tried to hold onto her, he honestly had, but what was there to hold onto really? Silent vows and unspoken promises? That he had begun to doubt even existed? He would look at her sometimes, and wonder if he'd just imagined it all. Had 'they' just been in his head? He remembered the crippling insecurity, when he'd had his self-esteem battered, when he spent most of his waking hours just wishing she would throw him a line. And then he'd gradually stopped wishing, and eventually hoping.

Ask yourself, who'd watch for me?

A solitary voice will speak out and set me free.

I hate to say it, I hate to say it, 

But it's probably me. 

He knew now that it, they, had been there all the time, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, see it. When he'd stopped pursuing her she'd withdrawn, and he, pigheaded as he was, had left her to her sulking. For that was what he'd seen it as. Hadn't seen it as her quiet acceptance, her refusal to drag it out painfully. Hadn't stopped to think that if he'd visibly noticed her absence, then she hadn't really been so absent as he imagined all this time. And then.... he could barely bring himself to think about it. Riley. How could he tell her that it was just sex? That is meant nothing? Would that make it ok? But he'd felt so alone. And then after he'd felt so alone that it was like a yawning chasm in the pits of his being. For one hour with Riley, he'd lost a lifetime with Kathryn.

You're not the easiest person I ever got to know, 

And it's hard for us both 

To let our feelings show. 

Some would say, I should let you go your way you'll only make me cry... 

Chakotay paused in his musings to check his monitor, and to cast an eye around the Bridge. That was a long long time ago, and while he was certain she had not forgotten, he imagined there was something there approaching forgiveness. Maybe acceptance. He cringed inwardly. Kathryn wasn't an 'accepting' person in principle, only with him, and it could make him feel physically sick to think of how she had accepted the way he'd given up on them. Quietly and unerringly she had shouldered the task. As if she should have known better, or something like that, she internalised any pain, refused to let him help, or help him, by blaming him. She never said anything about it. Not a word. He had been slowly but surely pushed away, and the worst thing was, in retrospect, that he hadn't really noticed in the end. They were both so tired of dancing around one another, it was time to step one way or the other.

But if there's one guy, 

Just one guy, 

Who would lay down his life for you and die, 

I hate to say it, I hate to say it, 

But it's probably me. 

And so they did. And, it seemed, she had never looked back. But he had. He had been able to look no other way. Barely a month had gone by, and he began to pine for her, for her laugh, for her coffee, for her mean jokes. His mind set had only been worsened by her apparent happiness. She seemed to settle into things In a way she hadn't before, and it stung. The only thing that stung more was the knowledge at the back of his mind that he had precipitated the whole thing, from start to bloody, bitter end. He threw himself into his work, making no special effort to ease her way in the manner he had sworn to. He took to drinking, quite heavily, after the failed attempt with the slipstream, and was only just beginning to feel himself again. And through it all, the drunken nights in sickbay with the Doctor, when he would grow melancholy he would speak of her and cry, and in the morning deny everything. He didn't need her, didn't even like her that much any more, he would say. He was her man and she done him wrong. Chakotay laughed lamely to himself, shaking his head.

When the world's gone crazy 

And it makes no sense, 

There's only one voice that comes to your defence. 

The jury's out 

And your eyes search the room, 

One friendly face is all you need to see... 

She knew, she must do. The doctor would have made reports to her, although how detailed they were he had no idea. Would medical reports include a deeply unhappy man's drunken ramblings? He had no way to tell. At the time and in the months since she had been unreadable. Chakotay looked up suddenly at the bright lights of the Bridge, feeling his eyes begin to prick with hot tears. He half hoped that the Doctor had included all of his weepings, all he'd said on those unfortunate nights. It would certainly make easier that which he had determined upon.

But if there's one guy, 

Just one guy, 

Who would lay down his life for you and die... 

I hate to say it, I hate to say it, 

It's probably me. 

Because in everything, through everything, beyond everything he knew - there was Kathryn. His recognition of this, his awareness, had variously caused him intrigue, happiness, insecurity, desire, love, uncertainty, security, sadness, bitterness, hope.... It was time to start rebuilding some bridges, accepting some responsibility - there was a lesson she could teach him. But where to start? He heard his father in his memory, reminding him that all journeys must begin with one small step, and he smiled to himself.

"Chakotay to the Captain. Is everything alright down there?"

~FIN~ 

Please [let me know][1] what you thought!

   [1]: MAILTO:captainkate@geocities.com



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